


magnolia

by whisperedwords



Series: YingYang!verse [9]
Category: National Football League RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pet Names, Softness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 05:18:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13710666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperedwords/pseuds/whisperedwords
Summary: And here’s the thing—he’s been in love with Eli Manning forsolong he doesn’t even remember what it feels like to not be.





	magnolia

**Author's Note:**

> I TOLD YALL. FOLLOW-UP. SOFT. OBJ IS HEAD OVER HEELS FOR ELI. [title is from eric clapton & john mayer's cover of magnolia.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GjIFzh_FnP0) i am full of softness. eventually i'll stop filling ao3 with my e/o garbage.
> 
> if you're into this sort of thing, [check out the library for more.](http://eoverse.tumblr.com)

There are, on average, about a thousand things per second rocketing through Odell Beckham Jr.’s head at any given time. Sponsorship meetings, the almost constant buzz of his phone from the fifty-something group chats he finds himself part of, training sessions both at Metlife and home in LA—needless to say, the concept of free time for him has been unheard of since early 2015.

And yet—all these thousand things clattering in his brain are quiet today. Just for now. The sinking LA sun floods his kitchen as he watches languidly from the couch, head resting on Eli Manning’s thigh like it’s nothing—like he’s meant to be there. (Eli’d taken a flight out to LAX without telling Odell, of course; when he finally arrived it had taken all of their combined strength not to immediately crash into the closest bathroom stall they could find. When they finally arrived at O’s house, Eli had kissed him silly before they could even step out of the car. All absolutely worth it.) He’s drifting off, Odell notices as he glances up at his boyfriend. Eyes unfocused and staring out the window, one hand curled in Odell’s half-knotted mess of blonde hair, it’s enough to lull him into a peaceful silence he hasn’t really been able to appreciate in a long, long time. He can’t seem to swallow the heart lodged in his throat—he loves Eli so much.

And here’s the thing—he’s  _been_ in love with Eli Manning for so long he doesn’t even remember what it feels like to not be. From the moment they’d met and even, to a degree, before—being fifteen, sixteen, watching him win the most impossible Super Bowl on Earth and knowing that he’d walked through Isadore, too, it made him  _elated_. Catching a pass from him his sophomore year was just more proof, his stomach twisting into unexplained knots as Eli had beamed at him from across the shitty turf. And from there...it had always been number ten, jogging onto the field, carrying his team, saving the day—no different than he is now, Odell thinks fondly as the bluntness of Eli’s nails lightly scrapes his scalp. He hums, shifts a little so that he can look up into E’s warm face.

God, he has  _never_  loved someone like this. The raw feeling in his chest, warm and beautiful but so, so dangerous, it rears its head every time Eli’s twinkling eyes settle on him, eye-crinkles and all. He’s only 25 and he’s never,  _never_ going to love like this again. He’s found it—found everything he’d ever wanted.

(Sometimes, he’ll be hanging with Aubrey or meeting up with LeBron when he’s in town when he gets texts from Eli—dorky little things, pictures of objects around New York City that look like Odell, an attempt at an emoji sentence even though he really, really doesn’t get it. It makes him laugh every time, a little flustered at how easily E can do this to him.

His name in most of O’s phones is just a blue heart emoji, just in case—but his main line, the one that he keeps on him at all times no matter what, lists him as “ _mine_ ”, and seeing texts on that one—the soft ones, the “i love you more than anything” ones that are meant for quiet moments between big events—it takes his breath away.

He’s young and dumb and head over heels for the world’s biggest dork. Every time he remembers that, he grins until someone actually notices.)

“Hey,” Eli murmurs, his voice soft as it breaks through his thoughts. Odell reaches up and takes his hand gently, rubbing his fingers over Eli’s knuckles for a moment or two before bringing his hand down towards his lips. He presses feather-light kisses to each finger tip, brain in a warm haze that he’s missed more than he even realizes. Had it been earlier in the afternoon, he would’ve done something dirtier—something more fun, to get them both worked up. But the sun is just starting to go down, tinting the sky through his sliding glass doors a burnt orange, and he doesn’t think either of them have the energy right in this moment. He settles for lacing their fingers together for a split second and kissing them once more. “Tired?”

“Nnnnn,” Odell replies slowly. Without even really thinking about it, he unlaces their fingers but pulls Eli’s hand closer, nuzzles into his wrist and kisses his palm so softly he’s not even sure if Eli’d felt it. (Above him, Eli chuckles softly—he probably had.) “What makes you say that?” He hums a little, readjusts his position on Eli’s lap.

“Oh, y’know,” he answers, his gaze warm as he looks into Odell’s face. “Just a feeling.” When he runs his nails lightly over O’s scalp again, a soft moan spills from Odell’s lips—he scoots closer, eyelids fluttering at the contact. His eyes are half-closed as Eli continues talking, voice still like molasses. “Go ahead, honey. ‘s okay. Sleep a little.”

It’s always the  _honey_  that does him in. Every time— _every_  time. Though he’s well known to be passionate in every probable way, O’s never really considered himself to be soft. Mushy. Melt-able. And yet, there’s something about the curl of Eli’s voice when he says it—“honey” like he means it, all southern charm and bashfulness and affection. (Like a lifetime of love.) Odell knows he can never outlast a  _honey_  no matter where they are. Hand still curled in his hair, absentmindedly petting with no perceptible rhythm, Eli says  _honey you can sleep_  and Odell can feel his heart rooting to this spot right here. His eyes close for a moment and he takes a deep, slow breath. It’s so easy, like this—it feels natural, it feels  _right_ to be curled up on his couch rather than being out.

And he loves his life. He does. There’s no one more grateful to be living their life than him, he thinks firmly, because every single person he has right now has brought him nothing but joy. Every event, every collaboration, every club, it makes him happy. But being here with Eli is....stilling. He feels like he’s outside of time. His phone is an afterthought at best, the rest of the world like a dream, because lying here with his quarterback on a Thursday afternoon without a schedule to follow has completely and utterly consumed his thoughts. He hears Eli murmur a soft  _I love you_  as the stroking of his hair slows to a stop. With effort, he reopens his eyes—Eli hadn’t been wrong about him being tired, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take advantage of this moment now.

“’m not tired,” he mumbles, and Eli looks down again at him, goofy smile spreading across his face the way Odell loves. “Mmm, just wanna lie here with you.” With even  _more_  effort, he sits up and backs himself into Eli’s side so that he can rest his head on his quarterback’s shoulder. His soft noise of surprise in response makes Odell smile. (The fact that Eli’d twined their fingers together helps, too—perfectly fitted and warm together, and O’s not even worried about having sweaty hands.)

“Oh, really?” Eli turns his head and presses a kiss to Odell’s forehead. Odell leans into it but doesn’t respond, just nods. “Okay, baby. Whatever you say.”

“E...” Odell’s not really sure what he’d planned on saying. Not anything, if he’s being honest—just wanted to say it, just wanted to feel the syllable in his mouth, his favorite one out of all of them. His boyfriend, head still turned towards him, blinks slowly as he gazes half-expectantly. O knows that he knows there’s nothing else to be said—they can practically read each other’s minds at this point. It doesn’t stop the softening of Eli’s smile, from silly into something more tender.

Eli answers him anyway. “Yeah, honey?” He lifts a hand to Odell’s face, rubs the edge of his beard with his thumb. It’s such a simple gesture but it completely sucks the wind from Odell’s lungs—he bites his bottom lip to keep the half-choked noise of affection locked up in his throat, and oh  _god_  he’s so in love. He doesn’t even know what to  _do_ with himself he’s so completely immersed. Eli’s gaze flickers down to his lips for a moment. Odell finds himself mewling, the soft noise in the back of his throat spilling out as Eli leans in slowly, for a kiss to completely floor him in the most unexpected way.

It’s a kiss for this kind of afternoon. Nothing deep or hungry or desperate, nothing hot and heavy—just chaste. Eli’s hand, still cradling Odell’s head, doesn’t move as their lips brush together; as they part, Odell’s lower lip drags against Eli’s upper lip, languid and loving in a way that neither of them had really known they’d needed.

“Mmmm.” Odell’s voice is breathy as he slowly opens his eyes, barely shifting out of Eli’s orbit. Their noses bump. “Nice.”

“Yeah,” Eli chuckles quietly in response. “Nice.” His face is still impossibly young, emotion written across it like a book. It’s a look that chills Odell to his core. “You know I love you, yeah?”

“More than anything,” Odell echoes, voice barely above a whisper. “I know.”

“Good.” Eli plants another soft kiss to Odell’s lips, and then kisses the side of his head too for good measure. “Now—were you serious about not wanting to do anything but lie here? I think jet-lag is kicking in.”

Odell laughs,  _aww_ s into Eli’s shoulder. “Sleep, baby,” he replies, another echo of an Eli-ism. “We got all the time in the world.”

And, for now, in their little bubble? They do.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [grabs megaphone] THANK U ALL FOR REACHING OUT TO MY DUMB ASS AFTER THAT SUPER BOWL COMMERCIAL, I LOVE U AND THANK U FOR STICKING WITH THIS SHIP IM CARRYING. U ARE ALL VALID. WE WILL BE REWARDED IN 2018


End file.
